


Clarity

by constellationsandcolors



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28827372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellationsandcolors/pseuds/constellationsandcolors
Summary: Through careful planning, the girls have discovered that everything they went through was a lie. Well, not everything- the whole gettting-to-know one another thing was real. Thinking they were alone was the mistake. Now, they have to use the wits that kept them alive on the island to thwart Gretchen and her team into thinking they made some fucking breakthrough in order to expose the operation for the shit show it is.
Relationships: Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 3
Kudos: 136





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> oh what a surprise another lesbian obsessed with the wilds
> 
> No but really I'm sorry to any of my prior readers for bouncing around fics but I needed to get this idea out before I forgot it. Trauma and depression and school and job hunting are kicking my ass but sometimes I hyper-fixate on one of these bastard children enough for an update. I hope that the steam I have for this one doesn't taper out but I apologize in advance if I wind up letting this sit for eight months
> 
> That being said I hope you enjoy this lil work <3
> 
> stan shoni and leahtin

_**SHELBY.** _

Shelby lies awake in her room, the oppressive darkness only broken by the faint green glow of the camera light in the far corner. Her eyes flick toward the clock every few moments, as the faint ticks count the seconds to five before ten.

After weeks of meticulous planning- notes left in the vending machine door by Dot, her quick meeting with Leah, and convincing the agents that she’d gone off the deep end- five minutes are all they have to try and figure out what the fuck is happening to them.

Dot had agreed to be the amicable, open candidate out of the three of them, gaining the trust of the psychologist and his supposed government friend. She had more access to the facility than any of them, and was the main reason they could even attempt to pull this fucking _Oceans 8_ maneuver.

They’re the only ones who know what’s about to happen. It’s for the best, if their theories prove true. If these people managed to convince their parents to sign them up for this nightmare, she knows they’re not above doing what’s necessary to keep the operation a secret. Which is why when Dot suggested including Toni in the plan, Shelby immediately protested. 

Jeanette and Nora are gone, and Rachel lost a hand for it. If they’re discovered, what’s to stop them from killing them? If the others are ever allowed to see their families again, she can almost imagine the sickly act the agents would put on as they describe some fabricated tragedy that claimed the five girls. 

Sure, they may have been able to pull this off sooner, since Toni had almost the same clearance as Dot. But she’ll suffer with the rest of them if the operation fails. There wasn’t much they could control from their cells, but Shelby had this one choice. She hopes it’s the right one this time.

Another glance at the clock. _9:55._

Shelby turns, taking her flipper from the nightstand. She holds it in her hand for one moment, taking the deepest breath she can muster before sliding it into her mouth. 

She can almost feel the reaction working through her body. Her lips and mouth start to tingle, and in just a minute, her chest starts to tighten as her breaths become more and more labored. She slams her palm into the call button beside her bed as the clock hits _9:57._ Sirens wail, and a caged red bulb begins flashing above her, casting the dark room in an angry glow every few seconds.

She decides to make a show of it. She arches her back, clawing at her sweater and the bedsheets as her throat starts to swell. She can hear the wheeze of her breath as voices clamor outside her door before it’s thrown open. Two nurses rush inside, one wheeling a cart, the other with an epipen at the ready.

“How the hell did she get exposed to shellfish?” she snaps, jamming the needle into Shelby’s thigh as the other woman prepares an IV and oxygen. 

Shelby can only grunt in response to the pain that radiates from the injection point. She barely feels the pinch as they put the port into her arm though, as her vision starts to darken at the edges.  
A well-dressed blonde woman runs into the room as they work on her, wielding a flashlight and looking distressed. Shelby swears she hears quick footsteps over the noise, but she can only pray she’s right before her eyes drift shut.

_**LEAH.** _

_“What the fuck.”_

The urgent, whispered statement echoes in the confined chamber. Leah squints against the glow of the monitors as she takes the scene in. Eight boys sit around a fire, tending to various duties. Building a shelter and treating injuries on a beach. On _their_ beach.

It’s stupid to feel possessive over their nightmare, but the sight of the men on the same stretch of sand they called home for three months sends a wave of nausea through her. She looks back at the files on the desk. The _Dawn of Eve_ and the _Twilight of Adam._ Her fingers shake as she opens the thick manilla folder with the title of their fake-ass retreat.

She’s greeted by a small photo of herself, clipped to several pages of paper with various tables and charts; medical information, addresses, family members. She rifles to a page with handwritten observations.

_Excessive paranoia likely exacerbated by prior trauma. Major distrust of other participants._

“Fuck you,” she mutters under her breath. 

She combs through the rest of the file, finding a similar collection for all of them. Fatin. Shelby. Toni. Dot. Martha. Rachel.  
Nora’s is last, everything but her name is blacked out. No No grief passes over her as her eyes trace over the letters. God, what would Rachel think? Does she already know? 

God, it was so much worse than they thought. They knew they’d been set up. But they’d been watched. Studied and analyzed like fucking guinea pigs. And this place wasn’t their rescue- just the next phase of this massively unethical experiment. 

For a moment, Leah indulges in the rush of pride that washes through her. She wasn’t crazy. She’d been the closest to figuring out what the hell had happened. It doesn’t last long, as she remembers how short the diversion is going to last. She takes a final look over the materials, committing them to memory before running toward the door.

She peeks it slowly- the chamber is empty, the voices that followed her overlapping somewhere to the left. She bolts to the breezeway, keeping her steps light but her strides strong and fast. In less than a minute, she’s back in a more familiar part of the compound. She checks each corner before rounding it, and, in a few minutes, finds herself back outside her cell. She takes one deep, satisfying breath before pushing the door open, careful to remove the bunched napkin before it swings shut. She tosses the crumpled paper into her trash can and settles on her bed. Her head hits the pillow as the lights flick back on. 

She smiles into her shoulder, counting down from one hundred until the adrenaline leaves her system and falls into a restful sleep for the first time in weeks.

_**TONI.** _

Toni bolts upright at the distant sound of sirens. 

She jumps back as the agent punches into the room, looking far more homely in a pair of flannel pants and an old sport t-shirt. He only steps in halfway.

“What the hell is happening?” Toni rasps, raising a hand to rub the sleep from her eyes.

The agent looks apprehensive. He clears his throat, glancing away. “Medical emergency.”

Something cold washes through her. Emergency. What the hell could any of them have done to themselves in these tiny rooms? She briefly wonders if Leah tried something drastic- like attempting to off herself or something. Which would be entirely fucking redundant after everything. So, she presses harder.

“God, can you drop this pretentious act for one second? I’ve been compliant for you and your buddy. The least you could fucking do is tell me if one of my friends is hurt.”

He meets her eyes, and Toni swears his expression softens a bit. “Anaphylaxis.”

He doesn’t need to say her name. Goosebumps rise along her arms before a violent anger replaces it. He knows about it. About _them._

 _“Fucker!”_ Toni snarls. His eyes widen at the outburst.

It takes him a moment to register that Toni is charging the door. He slips out clumsily, closing it with an agonizing click as the lock reactivates. Toni rips at the door handle, ignoring the soft apologies the man tries to offer from the other side.

She screams, pounding her fist against the metal until it’s red and raw. She keeps going even as his footsteps retreat. The sound occasionally morphs into a grating call of the other girl’s name until her voice gives out, first into hoarse sputters and then into silence.

She keeps her back pressed to the door as she slides to the floor and curls into herself, crying softly to no one.


End file.
